[329] The Battle Mage's Philosophy (3)
When Dante sensed the craftsman's aura in Shirone's eyes as he sewed, he made a bewildered face and said,
"Hey, do you have to sew right here?"
"This is the only coat I brought. And if I do it outside my hands will freeze and it'll be miserable."
Shirone blew on his still-cold fingers and refocused on the stitching.
Dante, who had ordered tea at the counter, returned carrying Armand—the sword Shirone had propped against the wall.
Shirone only lifted his gaze to inspect Armand. The magic sword that had been so temperamental was quiet as a mouse now.
As if to say only someone like Dante was entitled to examine it.
Because people were watching, Dante didn't draw the blade. He set it upright and inspected its exterior.
"Heh, so this is an S-class Object, huh."
He'd been given a rough explanation on the way over.
A magic sword equipped with the concepts of rated control and adamantine armament.
A flawless weapon that amplified magic and maximized its wielder's physical offense and defense.
Dante threw Armand against the wall. Shirone used rated control to return it precisely to its original spot.
Seeing it with his own eyes, Dante smiled.
"Nice weapon. Considering rarity, I can see it being worth over four billion gold."
Amy, who had been sitting by the fireplace warming herself, turned her head.
"Four billion gold—you say that like it's nothing. Well, the Eihain family is a conglomerate ranked twentieth in the kingdom's financial hierarchy. Still, why would the young master of a house like that accept a free coffee?"
"Haha! Coffee someone else makes always tastes better. And four billion gold for a single sword would leave my parents speechless."
Shirone, having finished the first button, threaded the needle for the second.
"Too bad. If anyone's interested I was going to sell it for about three billion."
The jewel in Armand gave a low hum.
"I'm not really into collecting things. I don't even buy souvenirs when I travel."
Dante, who reduced an S-class Object to mere collecting, was certainly not an ordinary man.
But Shirone liked that about him. Mages tended to notice only what they cared about.
While Shirone finished sewing and pulled his coat back on, the attendant brought their drinks.
Shirone and Amy sat in silence for a long while, sipping juice and cocoa.
They'd been giggling not long before, but the moment Dante arrived they became oddly reserved.
Dante sat cocked, legs crossed, sipping his coffee as he watched them.
Then he pointed at Amy with his cup.
"By the way—how are things?"
"Huh? Like what?"
"You two don't seem like the type to casually go on dates. Is this some kind of comfort trip or something?"
Shirone set his cup down and looked at Amy. It was the first time she'd brought up the graduation exam.
"Hmm."
Amy propped her chin on her hand and looked out the window.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. It's not that I'm unmotivated, but it's all too vague, I guess?"
She'd clearly had time to sort her thoughts—her expression was calm as she spoke.
"I did my best for six years and took the exam, right? But I failed. I don't know what to do next. It feels like simply improving my skill won't be enough. So…"
Amy exhaled and shrugged.
"I'm trying to pull myself together. It's probably psychological—second-attempt nerves. I need to find or create some kind of catalyst."
Dante nodded.
Of course he hadn't even considered the possibility of failing the graduation exam. But if he'd failed, he'd probably have worried just like Amy was doing now.
"I see. What exactly happened back then? I watched, but being on the field is different from spectating."
Shirone regarded Amy with a tense expression. Those memories had to be something she never wanted to revisit.
Still, he wanted to hear them. Once the break ended he'd have to face Fermi's group, and the more information, the better.
Fortunately, Amy didn't look tormented. She seemed to have gotten past the initial sting.
"I was mobbed… the real fight started at one minute thirty-two."
Amy's crimson eyes glinted as she pulled the details up.
"The moment the individual-combat category triggered, Number Two Thousand activated and all the participants moved at high speed. The first person I thought I had to go after was Sanuell. I think others had the same idea."
Shirone said, "Sanuell's a speech-rune mage."
"Right. Speech-rune needs time to activate. In training Sanuell's phonics were at 148 syllables per second. Casting a mid-level spell takes at least four seconds. But once the rune completes, its amplification is huge, so in the one-on-one scenario he's the top priority to eliminate. But Fermi broke the flow."
Amy's face darkened.
"It felt really wrong. A sense of dissonance. During the fight I didn't have the headspace to think about collusion, but instinctively I judged I should switch my target to Fermi. In hindsight that was a mistake. Raiken's plasma covered the ground so I couldn't see the target clearly. I tried close combat, and they... executed the prearranged play."
Amy fell silent for a while, replaying the fatal mistake.
She let out a long breath as if dumping the regret, then dropped her shoulders back into the present.
"After that the tide turned. As you know, we were pushed back and eliminated early."
Dante, lost in thought for a moment, asked, "But Fermi's group has used that tactic for a long time, right? The prearranged play."
"Yeah. I wasn't completely unprepared. In the graduation class we rotate through six exam subjects in training. You can gauge factions and individuals. But on exam day something was different. The prearranged play might be part of their tactics, but they didn't have to protect Sanuell from concentrated fire. Still, the atmosphere completely shifted. I still don't understand why."
"The atmosphere shifted…"
If they could control the flow of battle that freely in an individual-combat scenario, their skill was far higher than expected.
But Amy's keen eye should have noticed if they were hiding their true ability. That's why she was confused.
This wasn't simple camouflage. Something undisclosed was at work. The subject was probably—
Fermi, the top-ranked senior in the graduation class.
Either they could perfectly conceal their allies' abilities, or they could drastically boost them.
Whatever the method, one of those two capabilities had to be in play.
"Hmm, so you were outmatched in power. Then there's no excuse. No wonder Master Olivia didn't step in."
Amy shook her head.
She wasn't trying to excuse the loss. But it wasn't that she lacked ability.
In a fairer fight—if neutral factions hadn't been swayed by Fermi—she could easily have been among the final ten.
"If the rules are the rules, I won't argue. But compared to the other participants, my skill wasn't lacking. I'm not saying Sanuell should've failed instead of me. If Fermi could control the battlefield's flow, anyone caught in their sights would fall."
Dante blinked, surprised. Looking at Amy, he could tell she was earnest.
"Of course I get that it's frustrating. But that's how they came out in the end, right? So saying you were outmatched is the accurate way to put it, isn't it?"
Amy put her juice down and sighed.
"Haah, you still don't get it…"
"No, I understand. Fermi's group controlled the flow, and everyone targeted you."
"Then are you saying it's my fault? Why? Because I act annoying? Or because I looked like the easiest target?"
"Don't get worked up—"
"Do I look like someone who won't get worked up?!"
Amy slammed the table and stood. Heads in the café turned to her.
Conscious of them, she sat back down quietly, though her face remained flushed.
"Fine, personal opinion is free. But I fought tooth and nail in the graduation class for a year and took the exam. If you, Dante, had been in my situation, would you have said the same thing then?"
Dante didn't answer.
His view hadn't truly changed. But making an already heated Amy angrier wouldn't get a measured reply.
—or so he thought.
Both Dante and Amy were mages. Hiding the truth for the sake of emotion wasn't in either of them.
"Don't be childish, Amy."
Anger flared in Amy's eyes.
"Childish? Me?"
"Alright, then let's ask Shirone. What do you think about the graduation exam results?"
Amy turned to him. Shirone swallowed dryly. Whatever he said probably wouldn't satisfy her.
"Shirone, do you think the same? Is Dante right that I'm being childish?"
"Uh, well… I—"
"Be honest. I recognize Dante's skill and yours. If both of you see me that way, maybe it's true. I want the exact truth."
Amy was sincere.
As a mage student she wasn't fragile enough to be consoled by hollow flattery.
Above all, she trusted herself.
She hadn't failed the graduation exam because she was weak or lazy.
Shirone stammered, unable to bear the silence, and spoke with difficulty.
"It was an ethically wrong exam, that much is true. But no matter what happens… as a mage, you should be able to win."
Amy felt the strength drain from her.
If even Shirone said that, the likelihood she was mistaken felt high.
Yet her heart refused to accept it.
Childish? Me?
She had never been lazy in her studies. She prided herself on fighting harder than anyone.
Being called childish—
What stung most was that their judgment—one she couldn't understand—might actually be correct.
Dante said, "Of course you're strong. Rising to fifth in the graduation class in just a year is undeniable."
Amy's gaze shifted slowly to Dante.
"But strictly speaking, that's because your talent is exceptional."
"Talent…?"
"If you ranked everyone by what they were born with…"
Dante took a sip of coffee and pointed at Amy.
"It would be you. Amy, you're the best at the Alpheas School of Magic."
Amy did not feel pleased.
She still couldn't grasp exactly what Dante was getting at.